


Stone by Stone

by hit_the_books



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Betaed, Bottom Max Banes, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Haunting, M/M, Possession, SPN Case Fic Mini-Bang 2017, Season/Series 12, Top Sam Winchester, spncasefic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 06:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hit_the_books/pseuds/hit_the_books
Summary: Who the hell moves an entire castle from the Rhine to goddamn Missouri? Dean, Sam, Donna and Max don’t know, but a free vacation is a free vacation. Unless there’s German ghosts, possessions, and unfortunate hotel staff, which mean the week away from the hunting life is gonna have to wait.





	Stone by Stone

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, firstly thanks to the [SPN Case Fic Bang](http://spncasefic.tumblr.com/) mods for running the bang this year. It's my second year taking part and it's been a blast writing something for this again. This year's theme was "to focus on creating a rich setting for your fic", and I'm hoping that I managed this for you, dear reader.
> 
> Next, thanks to [stormbrite](http://stormbrite.tumblr.com/) for their lovely edits, it's been great to work with stormbrite again. You can find masterposts for the edits on [AO3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11178417) and [LJ](http://stormbrite.livejournal.com/29270.html).
> 
> And finally thank you to [WetSammyWinchester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WetSammyWinchester/works) for being my beta on this fic. Paula's feedback helped to bring some much needed clarity.
> 
> The castle used in this fic is based upon long distant memories of a castle on the Rhine river in Germany that I once visited while on a language exchange. The castle was towards the south of the country, slap bang in the middle of wine country, and had weathered through a lot over the years. The original owners of that castle are not the ones used in this story, though the "sister" referenced was a real person of the German aristocracy. All other characters are fictional.
> 
> The sexual contact between Sam and Max in much of this story is not completely, absolutely consensual, due to spirit based influences. This is why there's a dubious consent tag.
> 
> And when did I start shipping Sam Winchester with Max Banes? The moment in 12.06 where Max tells Sam about what his mother taught him.

“Your mother will never know this shame!” bellowed Albert. “But, just how could you do this to your mother?!” Candlelight made the man’s white nightshirt almost ethereal as he stood over the bed holding his nephew, Anton, and Anton’s lover, Karl. “And a kitchen hand? Seize them!”

“Uncle, I can explain, please!” cried Anton as the guards grabbed him and Karl--bucklers slamming in their sides--and dragged their naked bodies from Anton’s bed.

Albert didn’t listen as the young men were dragged through his castle, feet scraping on the gray flagstones as they were pulled along, kicking and yelling. The castle halls were deserted, no one daring to investigate what all the commotion was. Candles flickered in their alcoves, smoky light guiding Albert and his guards. They took the young men down into the empty winter cellar, waiting to be filled with the bounty of the summer harvest.

The yells turned to screams as the two young men were forced into hollowed-out stones in the cellar floor. A graying, wizened stone mason turned his face away from the scene as the guards worked to secure Anton and Karl.

“Finish it,” Albert hissed at the mason once Anton and Karl were trapped within the massive stones, unable to wiggle free, due to ropes on their wrists and ankles.

The mason nodded and began fixing false sides onto the stones. Soon the cries and whimpers of Karl and Anton were completely muffled. Albert watched as his guards lowered the stones into spaces that had been left in the floor. Between the guards and the mason, they took an hour to seal the stones up in the cellar, making it look like nothing had changed in the vast space.

Once the tombs were complete, Albert led the guards and the mason out of the cellar. He had an important letter to write to his sister, informing her how Anton had run away from him, likely heading to the French border. The lie would be easy to swallow, Albert knew this would bring less shame upon the family as they looked to secure their place among the Calvinists.

Stopping by an arrow slit, Albert looked down at the river below the castle. Regret was not an emotion he allowed himself to feel as he watched the inky surface glint in the moonlight. He had kept his ancestral line safe, ensuring that his sister would not have shame visited down upon them.

***

One year later, on the anniversary of his nephew’s disappearance, Albert was watching the starlit night sky from one of the castle’s many ramparts. Leaning against the reddish-brown stone, Albert held a goblet of white wine between his hands. He spared no thought for the nephew he had murdered the year prior.

Albert had much work left to ensure that his sister’s legacy was as great as it could be. Her marrying the Count of Palatine had been a boon for their family, and she had had so many children, aside from Anton. Thinking who he might offer to foster next, Albert didn’t pay much attention to where he was leaning on the rampart as he sipped his wine.

Without warning, a stone shifted and Albert was sent falling down towards the rocky foundations of the castle. Body dashed across the outcrop, Albert’s last thoughts were on his poor luck at not being able to finish such a good vintage.

***

“Slow down, Donna. There’s a castle, and--”

“I won the draw, Dean. I won it!” Donna squealed across the line, making Dean wince.

“Won what?”

“A week’s stay at the Castle Rhine.”

“Come again?”

“Dean, I won a vacation. To this really nice, historic castle up river from St Louis,” Donna tried to say calmly, excitement seeping in. “Ooooh, and I really want you to come with me, Dean, please! Sam, too, and anyone else he wants to bring. C’mon, please say yes, please! We’d be heading out in two weeks.”

“Wait, there’s a castle in St Louis?”

“Yes! C’mon Dean, please say yes.”

“Look, I’ll talk it over with Sam and call you back.”

“Don’t leave me hanging, Dean. Speak to ya soon.” Donna hung up and Dean slumped against the refrigerator. The call had caught him completely by surprise, though it had been good to hear Donna’s voice. Like really good “I hope to get back to where we left off” kind of good.

It had been one long shit show since Amara and Chuck had left, without Sam and him having a chance to take it easy. If their mom was going to keep busy running around with the British Men of Letters, why couldn’t the two of them take some R-n-R for the first time in like forever? Sure, there was Lucifer’s spawn who they needed to track down, but free vacations didn’t just happen every day.

And Donna had been very _friendly_ the last time they hunted together. Dean felt a flutter in his chest as he started towards Sam’s room. Yeah, Dean could totally see how a week-long vacation could do them all some good. Cas wouldn’t appreciate taking the time off, so Dean figured he could let the angel know that he just needs to call them if something comes up that he can’t handle.

The more Dean thought about the vacation, the more he hoped Sam would say yes. After all, the last time they had something resembling a vacation had been a cooler full of beers by that lake right after Sam cured Dean of being a demon. And that was pushing the definition of vacation to its extreme.

Reaching Sam’s door, Dean knocked loudly and waited. There was no response. Wondering why Sam wasn’t up yet, Dean twisted the handle and eased the bedroom door open. The sound of staggered breaths and rustling sheets reached Dean’s ears, instinct making him close the door as quietly as he could. It wasn’t the first time Dean had almost walked in on Sam masturbating, and probably wouldn’t be the last. Trying not to think about the activity Sam was engaged in, Dean thought he’d almost gotten away without further trauma when he heard a breathy “Max” moaned into the world.

Dean did not need to know what Sam was drawing on from his spank bank. Not from that context. Though it definitely explained a few things.

***

“Just five more minutes!” Sam called to Dean. His brother was impatient for them to set off, but Sam wanted to be sure that he had everything he needed for an actual vacation. They were picking up Max in Kansas City and Sam needed to be prepared.

He checked again that he had condoms and enough lube in his bag. Sam didn’t know for sure that he and Max were going to finally get together- _together_ , but he was pretty sure he’d been reading the signs right, ever since Asa’s funeral. All the text messages, emails and that one weekend where they Skyped and watched _Birdman_ together, chatting forever about the percussion soundtrack to that film, and how it should have gotten an Oscar for best soundtrack… yeah, Sam’s more than ninety percent sure that what had been building between him and Max was more than just platonic.

“SAM, GET YOUR ASS HERE OR I AM LEAVING YOU!” Dean yelled.

“Shit!” Sam hissed, quickly zipping up his duffel and grabbing it. He was almost certain he’d packed everything. If there was anything he’d forgotten, he would just have to buy it while on the road. Closing his bedroom door, Sam hurried out to the garage and Dean.

“Finally,” Dean greeted him as Sam reached the garage. “Okay, just need to…” Dean walked to the doorway that led to the rest of the Bunker. Sam half watched as his brother said the spells necessary to re-secure this particular entrance, the front door already locked tight.

Sam put his duffel in the trunk and got into the Impala’s front passenger seat. Tapping his knee, Sam looked up at Dean as he got into the driver’s seat. “Say, are we giving Donna a lift too?”

Dean shook his head. “Nah, she’s meeting us there.” Dean started the ignition and pulled the car out of the garage, heading up onto the Bunker’s main access road.

“Get this,” Sam started as began a spiel on everything he had learned about the “Castle Rhine”. If Dean was annoyed about the lecture, he didn’t say anything as a warm smile was directed Sam’s way.

***

“Hey,” Max said, picking up his bags and smiling at Sam. His stomach was doing little flips, which only intensified when Sam finished walking around Dean’s car and drew him into a hug. Breathing was difficult in that moment, but who needed air when you had Sam Winchester giving you a hug? Max didn’t.

“Got everything? Is Alicia okay?” Sam asked, taking Max’s bags from him.

“Yeah, she’s good. Her and Jody have a whole week planned with Alex and Claire.” Max helped Sam open the Impala’s trunk and watched as he put his bags in.

“Great. Uh, do you wanna sit up front with Dean or--”

“Actually, can we, uh, sit together in back?” Max asked. “It’ll save you from getting a crooked neck.”

“Sure!” Sam smiled and climbed into the back of the Impala with Max.

Trying to ignore Dean’s raised eyebrow, Max slid a little closer to Sam than just a friend would and bumped knees with him.

“Okay, we’ve got another four hours until we reach where this castle’s at, so uh, yeah,” Dean half-muttered from the front and then Max heard a clicking sound. He didn’t know what was about to happen but then the Impala pulled away and the starting chords of “Highway to Hell” kicked in over the car stereo.

He looked at Sam who shrugged in return. “Driver picks the music,” Sam explained and grinned back. “So, get this, the castle that we’re heading to?”

***

“It was actually brought to Missouri, stone by stone, from a valley beside the Rhine river in Germany, somewhere up river from Cologne. A bit like what Lionel Luthor did with the family home in _Smallville_ ,” Sam explained to Donna as the four of them walked up to the castle’s reception.

“The fact that you even watched Smallville is weird,” Dean muttered just loud enough for Donna to hear. She elbowed Dean and got a glare from him.

“Unlike a lot of castles along the Rhine, it wasn’t controlled by one of the lines responsible for electing Germany’s king--”

“Hold on, their kings were elected?” Donna prompted.

Sam nodded. “Yep, by this set group of aristocrats. But anyway, the family that held onto this castle for generations, and were very well respected in German aristocracy,” Sam continued.

“Thank you, Sam,” Donna offered, hoping it would stop the history lecture. It was cute, but she’d closed an arson case less than twenty-four hours prior to the start of her vacation and was in desperate need of a long hot soak. Preferably with Dean feeding her strawberries covered in chocolate. Not that Dean knew anything about that part of her immediate plans, though she’d been dropping hints in texts all week. “Okay, let’s check-in, get settled and then meet up for dinner, hm?”

The guys nodded and Donna allowed herself to relax just a little bit. Heading up the granite steps that led to the reception of Castle Rhine, Donna found herself wondering what these ancient stones had seen. It was kind of weird that this castle that was over seven hundred years old, older than the concept of the United States of America, had just been plopped down in the middle of Missouri.

Dean opened the reception door for Donna. “Ladies first,” he offered with a smirk and Donna suppressed a giggle.

The four of them filed in and Donna made her way to the reception desk, where a bored brunette sat, twirling the end of her ponytail around her fingers. Leaning on the desk’s mahogany, Donna wasn’t sure if she was disappointed that there wasn’t a single burning torch on the castle walls or glad that there wasn’t a fire risk.

“Hi, I’m Donna Hanscum.” She pulled out an email from her purse that included the details of her prize and booking reference number. “These are my guests. We’re meant to be checking in today.”

“Huh, oh, right,” replied the brunette. Donna peeked over the desk a little more and saw that her name badge read “Olive”. “Okay, yes Ms. Hanscum, we’ve got you and your companions booked into two queen doubles.”

“Great.” Not that Donna was planning much on sleeping out of Dean’s bed.

“If you could all just sign here,” Olive asked, lifting a check-in book onto the top of the desk. Everyone quickly signed in, with Donna being the only one to use her real name. “Great,” said Olive, “I’ll be able to get your room keys and have Mike show you to your rooms.”

Donna turned around and almost jumped when she saw a stooped older man standing behind them. He hadn’t been there a second ago and Donna wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to meet him alone in any of the castle’s halls. Turning back to the book, Donna finished signing it and then Olive gave her the room keys.

“If you would kindly follow me,” Mike said, his voice low and rumbling. Donna couldn’t quite place his accent, though it seemed local. The older man made no offer to carry their bags and cases, which was fine in Donna’s books, because he looked like a good gust of wind would finish him off.

Following Mike, they reached an elevator that clearly hadn’t been part of the original castle and was jammed into one of the stairwells. Trying not to think about the engineering involved in doing that, Donna got into the elevator with four strapping men and Mike. It was on the awkward side of squashed, and there was nothing Donna could do about the way she was plastered against Dean’s back. She blushed when Dean looked behind him and winked at her.

Soon the elevator ride was over and the four of them squeezed out of the box to follow Mike to their rooms.

“This was the family’s floor, as you might be able to tell,” Mike said. “The wider hall and smoother stone work, while worn with time, is still much grander than what is found in the servants’ halls.”

Wishing she wasn’t getting yet another history lecture, Donna imagined the bath that awaited her in the room. In the end, Sam and Max were placed down the other end of the corridor towards the elevator, while Dean and Donna’s room was halfway down the other way. With such thick stone walls around, Donna figured that she would at least not embarrass Dean in front of Sam.

“Dinner is served starting at six this evening,” Mike informed Donna as she waited to close her bedroom door.

“Right, thanks.” Donna handed Mike ten dollars and then unceremoniously closed the door in Mike’s face.

***

Alone with Max for the first time in ever, Sam busied himself with nothing, and fumbled with his bags, unsure of what he should do. He hadn’t really discussed things with Max, just invited him along with the vague idea of winging things. Now faced with Max sorting through his things on his bed, though, Sam started to feel like he had maybe overplayed his hand.

Sitting down on his bed, Sam looked up at the tall ceilinged room, eyes trained on the pale plaster overhead that curved upwards between pillars set here and there. It was a large room and still showed much of its original stonework, though the windows were glazed. Under his hands, Sam worried at the faux grizzly bear pelt that had been draped over his bed. Fingers feeling at the fake fur, he tried to figure out what he should do in the hour or so that he and Max had before dinner began.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” Max asked, making Sam almost jump from his spot on the bed.

“Sure.”

“See you in a bit,” said Max. He took his toiletries bag with him into their en suite and closed the door, but didn’t lock it.

Sam relaxed back against his pillows, toeing off his shoes. He was on vacation, and needed to relax first. Who knew when he would get an opportunity like this again? Sam hadn’t been on vacation since the last Spring Break he’d observed in college, heading out to the coast with Jess.

Trying to stifle the familiar pang of emotion that rose whenever he thought of Jess, Sam tried to empty his mind of all thought. He almost succeeded, but then he found himself staring at a nearby column. There was something scratched into the stone, Sam thought. He got up from the bed and padded over to the column, stretching on tiptoes to reach up and brush his fingers against the carving that had been made.

It had been smoothed with age, but Sam could trace an “A” and a “K” that had been carved into the light brown stone with a knife or a dagger. He wondered who A and K were, though feeling the flourishes that had been put into the letters left him wondering if perhaps the graffiti artist wasn’t someone from the twenty-first century. Pulling away from the carving, Sam went back to the bed and laid down.

He pondered how to approach Max as he waited for his more-than friend to finish his shower.

***

The skin on the right side of Dean’s neck tingled, where Donna had pressed a kiss just a second earlier as the elevator descended. Sam had texted to say he and Max would meet them at dinner. Dressed in a blue dress shirt and a new pair of jeans, Dean hoped he looked the right side of smart casual as he kept admiring the simple, but flattering, red skater dress Donna had slipped into.

Just an hour earlier, he was feeding Donna strawberries while she soaked in a bathtub, Dean had been pleasantly surprised, especially when Donna had decided to share her chocolate covered strawberries and steal Dean’s air at the same time. They hadn’t gotten up to much more back in their room, but Dean was hopeful that he and Donna would get some more quality alone time later.

The elevator slowed to a stop and he took Donna by the arm and led her towards what could only be the dining room, if the nose was to be believed. Only, when they stepped inside, Dean realized that “feasting hall” was a more apt description. The ceiling was hardly visible in the candlelight, curving up into darkness, while right above head level, on the walls, hung the mounted heads of bears, elk and even cougars. A long oaken table occupied the center of the room and it had been set with enough food for twenty people, although Dean was pretty sure there weren’t that many guests staying at Castle Rhine.

“Sir, madam, if you’ll follow me,” Mike said, coming out of nowhere. The guy had changed outfits and was dressed up in something that wouldn’t have looked out of place on _The Tudors_ , not that Dean would ever admit to Sam he watched that crap. Dean kinda wanted to reach out touch the guy’s ruffle, but he managed to hold himself back. Didn’t need to be pissing off the staff and getting their food spat in.

Following Mike, Dean and Donna were led to the head of the table and were given seats there. Settling down onto the sturdy, wooden chairs, which they weren’t really, they were far grander than just chairs, Dean almost felt like he was sitting upon a throne. Wondering if he should text Sam to hurry up, he looked up to find his dork of a brother waving at him and Donna. Max stood behind Sam, eyeing up their surroundings. Sam wore a red dress shirt and some new jeans, and Max had a long sleeved, black v-neck on and a pair of slacks.

“Wow, this is quite something.” Sam walked up the length of the table, Max at his side, eyes bugging out as he tried to take everything in. It was kinda cute to watch, Dean decided, though he really hoped Sam wouldn’t spend the whole night talking about their dining location.

Mike steered Max to Dean’s side of the table and Sam to Donna’s. “We just have a few more guests to come, but would you like me to start serving?” Mike asked Dean.

“Uh, sure,” Dean replied. Mike nodded and got to work. While food was being served from the platters on the table, Dean observed the handful of other castle guests arriving. One young, red-headed woman had a Tudor dress on and she reminded him of Charlie for a moment. Stuffing that pain back down, Dean said yes or not to each dish, his plate slowly filling with roasted meats, vegetables and sauces that he had never tasted before.

Picking up a big turkey leg with his hand, Dean went to take a bite out of it and then Max nudged him with his knee.

“Hey,” Max whispered as the volume of the conversation around the table started to increase, “look, uh… like, do you know if… maybe Sam’s--”

“He’s interested. He’s available,” Dean interrupted, memories of what he’d heard coming from Sam’s room a few weeks ago, still very fresh. Putting the turkey leg down, he continued, “There is no one else in his life that he is crushing on more right now than you. So, if one of you crazy kids doesn’t try something by the end of this vacation, I’m gonna be forced to tie you two together until one of you does. Don’t make me do that. I do not want to get directly involved in my brother’s love life.”

“Oh,” Max replied lamely. “Wait, we’ve got your blessing?”

“Sam’s not some blushing virgin. I don’t care what the two of you do.” Which was the truth, Dean really didn’t care, except-- “If you hurt my brother, I will kill you. Hope I make myself clear.”

“Yeah, totally. Loud and clear.” Max swallowed and then Mike came to them seeing if they needed a top off of mead.

Goblets refreshed, Dean chatted with Max about the stuff he didn’t really get a chance to when they were at Asa’s funeral. He wasn’t oblivious to the longing gazes that Max and Sam kept throwing each other as they ate, and Dean promised to himself that he’d make sure the two of them got to sit next to each other next time. Talking to Max about the soul eater he and Sam had encountered the previous year, Dean felt a shiver run down his spine.

He looked around the table and he, Donna, Max and Sam had all tensed up, while the other guests just shivered and rubbed their hands together. Dean, Donna, Max and Sam had almost finished eating, so the hunters excused themselves and found a quiet alcove outside the feast hall in which to talk. Dean’s breath misted in front of him as he walked out of the room.

***

“So, get this,” Max started and everyone crowded around his laptop as he sat at a small bedroom table. “Other than your pretty standard sieges and usual Medieval and Renaissance debauchery, this castle doesn’t have a particularly interesting history.”

“Maybe we just felt a chill breeze?” Donna asked hopefully.

Max shook his head in time with the two Winchesters. “No, that was definitely more than just a breeze.”

Looking wary, Sam shifted behind Max and put a hand on his shoulder. “Dean and I grabbed what we’ve got out of the car. Everyone needs to remain vigilant until we get a handle on what’s happening here. Salt’s probably the easiest thing to carry around...”

“Right, so everyone salt your windows and doors before you go to sleep tonight,” Dean commanded. Max huffed out a small laugh and Sam squeezed his shoulder tighter. “Shotguns with rock salt only if you’re not gonna be seen.”

“Sam and I will try to figure out what might be going on. There’s some German archives I haven’t tried yet, though my German’s a little rusty.” Max looked over his shoulder up at Dean and Donna. “You two should head back. We’ll let you know if we find anything.”

“At least there’s plenty of iron around,” Donna pointed out, looking over at the fireplace in Sam and Max’s room.

“Just don’t hit anyone who’s not a ghost,” Sam reminded her.

“Oh please, I know what a ghost looks like,” Donna shot back.

“No, you know what an animal costume possessed by a ghost looks like,” said Sam. Donna huffed in response.

“Great. See you in the morning.” Dean stepped away, clearly wanting to keep the peace.

“Yeah, night,” said Sam. Donna followed Dean and the two of them left.

Alone again, Max stretched in his seat and looked up, his view almost completely upside down as he stretched his head backwards to look at the older man. “Say, do you think you can get me a coffee? Promise it won’t take me much longer to look this stuff up, but that mead has gone to my head a little.”

“Sure,” Sam answered, licking his lips. Max tracked the movement and then held back a whine as Sam moved away. He didn’t want to be researching ghosts, he wanted to be making his sweet moves on Sam.

Over on a modern-made oak chest of drawers, Sam got the coffee maker going while Max started to scan through a German site that contained historical records about the Castle Rhine, which wasn’t originally called that, not that Max had a hope of ever pronouncing its original name. There was all kinds of scanned documents in the archive; from letters to land deeds, family trees; historical accounts written before the twentieth century and other odd bits and ends.

Scanning through letters sent by various family members with connections to the castle, he found a series describing the fostering arrangement of a young man called Anton. Everything had been going fine until suddenly there was a letter from Anton’s uncle Albert to his sister, explaining that her son had run away to France. It seemed to be nothing, compared to the hints of affairs or trading of marriage alliances, but this one letter bugged Max.

Call it intuition. Call it his witchy senses pinging off. Call it his spider sense, but Max was sure this letter held part of the mystery.

“How’d you take your coffee?” Sam asked from across the room.

“Black, sugar,” Max replied absentmindedly as he scanned over the letter again. Deciding he couldn’t get any more from it, he searched elsewhere for records of Anton turning up in France. There was nothing, not even a historian’s footnote.

Just as Max was about to give up finding any trace of Anton, he found a paragraph in a book via Google Books, written some hundreds of years after Anton’s time. The historian responsible said that Anton had vanished from family duties, never to be heard nor seen again.

Sam ambled over with Max’s cup of coffee and one for himself, placed Max’s on the table and sat down beside him. “Got anything?”

“Maybe…” Max turned the laptop around so Sam could could the screen more easily. He waited while Sam flicked through the tabs and read, while he sipped on his coffee.

“Why this guy?” Sam asked, picking up his own cup.

“I got a feeling about it, and my mom taught me not to ignore my feelings.”

Sam nodded. “I… I have a feeling about it too. That and..” Sam got up, put his coffee down and walked closer to his bed. “I found this earlier.”

Max joined Sam so he could see whatever it was Sam was looking up at. “Is that an A?”

“Yep.”

“Then who’s the “K”?”

Sam shrugged and turned to Max. “I don’t know.”

Looking up at Sam as he spoke, Max couldn’t help noticing the way Sam’s eyes took all of him in, or the way Sam’s tongue flicked and licked his lips. Silence surrounded them except for their own quickening breaths. They stared at each other like deer caught in headlights. Drifting closer and closer, Max closed his eyes as Sam leaned in and gently kissed him on the lips.

It was a questioning kiss, soft and hopeful. Sam pulled away a tiny bit, brow furrowed, eyes looking like he could go from unsure to kicked puppy within half a second flat.

“Again,” Max murmured, closing the distance. This time he drove the kiss, pressing that touch harder. Sam was unresponsive at first, and just as Max thought he should stop, Sam surged forward, hand cupping the back of Max’s neck as he leaned in and kissed. Sam tasted of coffee, and smelled of books and sweat, that combination making Max’s stomach knot.

Mouth warm and demanding, Max was pulled against Sam’s hard planes, the larger man’s body dwarfing his as they kissed. He let his hands wander under Sam’s shirt, fingers exploring muscles he’d only dreamed of touching before. Sam pushed Max down onto his bed and climbed up over him. The drive for more contact, more skin on skin led to them removing each other’s shirts while begrudgingly breaking the kiss.

Wondering if this was as naked as they were going to get, Max reached up to kiss Sam and then felt Sam’s hands at his belt. Groaning, Max helped Sam to remove their pants and underwear, with Sam finally satisfied when they could feel each other.

“Fuck,” Sam whimpered, kissing at Max’s neck. “I wanna be in you so bad. Fuck.” Sam ground his hips against Max, and Max could feel Sam’s fattening cock rubbing against his own. It sent jolts of electricity down Max’s spine, making him moan and almost sob. He’d imagined what it would be like to be impaled on Sam’s dick, but to hear Sam say that was what he wanted? It was music to Max’s ears.

“Winchester, if you wanna fuck me, all you have to do is ask,” Max simpered, pushing his hips up to meet Sam’s and making them drag against each other.

***

A part of Sam couldn’t believe that he and Max had gone from their first kiss to naked grinding in under ten minutes, but hearing Max say he wanted Sam just as badly as Sam wanted him? Suddenly, he didn’t care how fast the two of them were moving. Max smelled like roses and sandalwood, and tasted divine with nipples that Sam wouldn’t mind biting. In fact as soon as Sam realized he could lean down and do that, he did. He scooted down a little and took Max’s left nipple between lip covered teeth.

Biting and sucking, Sam worked his hips against the younger man, cock slipping between Max’s balls and crack. Max panted beneath, body shaking from stimulation and it made Sam smile as he turned Max’s nipple into a hard nub of flesh, red and swollen. Pulling off, Sam glanced at Max’s face and asked, “Want me to open you up?”

Max nodded and stroked a hand through Sam’s hair. “Yes!”

Trying not to come from hearing Max’s eager voice, Sam climbed off and padded over to his bag, to retrieve the lube and condoms he’d brought with him. Sam repositioned Max before climbing back onto the bed proper, getting Max on all fours so he could see what he was doing. Max was practically vibrating though and Sam decided that Max needed to see as well, and shifted him onto this back again.

“Hey, wait, I was okay,” Max tried to reassure Sam, as he grabbed a pillow and placed it under Max’s hips.

Putting some lube on his index finger, Sam said, “I think this position will work better.” Sam didn’t give Max much of a chance to say anything else as he bowed down between his legs and took Max’s hard cock into his mouth. All he could taste and breathe was Max.

Max gasped as Sam took all of his length, which was no easy task. Waiting to hear some kind of comment about his lack of gag reflex, Sam instead was treated to the sound of Max whimpering and moaning, body shaking a little as he held back from fucking into Sam’s mouth. With Max so distracted as Sam started to bob up and down on his cock, Sam pressed a finger against Max’s hole, breaching the first ring of muscle as pleasure flooded through Max.

Little effort was needed for Sam to bury his finger up to the last knuckle as he busied his mouth with Max’s cock, saliva dribbling and sliding down towards Max’s balls. Crooking his finger just so, Sam stroked his prostate and almost made Max come, as his own cock leaked on the bed sheets, hard and needing.

“CHRIST! WARN A GUY!” Max shouted. Chucking around Max’s cock for second, Sam pulled off and then dragged his finger out.

“Oh, I dunno,” Sam said hoarsely, voice strained from deep throating Max. “You make such pretty noises.” Sam grinned and lubed up two fingers before plunging his mouth over Max’s cock again, eliciting a hearty “FUCK!” from Max.

Pressing two fingers into Max, Sam worked at opening him up as his mouth worked slickly up and down Max’s cock. Max pushed a hand through Sam’s hair, making him hum, but Max didn’t try to control Sam’s movement, instead he held on for dear life.

Easing Max open enough to add a third finger and really stretch him, Sam listened to the breathy grunts and moans of Max as he finished opening him up. Pulling his mouth off of Max’s leaking cock, Sam asked, “You still want me?”

“Yes!”

Smiling, body tingling with anticipation, Sam pulled a condom on and slicked himself up. Bracing himself over Max on one arm, Sam held the base of his cock as he guided the head to Max’s hole. Gently, Sam pressed inside, inch by slow inch, until he finally bottomed out. He braced both hands on either side of Max’s shoulders and willed himself to wait for Max to adjust to his length. The tight heat making Sam want to throw away all caution and just claim the gorgeous man beneath him.

“Sam,” Max panted. Hair falling around his face, Sam leaned in and kissed Max on the lips. Despite how much Sam just wanted to fuck him, the kiss was soft and sure, letting Max know that was happening was more than just physical attraction.

Sam pulled part of the way out of Max and then slid back, steady, then in and out again. Speed building as he tangled his tongue with Max’s. The bed started to creak as Sam snapped his hips back and forward faster and faster, every fiber of his being crying for him to finally give himself over to release. Beneath him, Max’s cock rubbed against him, pre-come and Sam’s spit, smearing over Sam’s stomach.

Reaching a hand between them, knowing he wasn’t going to turn this into marathon sex, Sam grasped Max’s dick and pumped him time with his hips as he assaulted Max’s lips. He shifted a little, grazing that sensitive bundle of nerves inside of Max every few thrusts; making Max cry and moan into Sam’s mouth.

The bed shook like their bodies; the headboard smacked against stone as Sam pounded into Max, living out months of wet dreams. Feeling a building pressure, Sam knew he was close and then Max’s body went rigid under his as Max came, hotly spilling between the two of them and over Sam’s hand. Rather than going completely boneless, Max renewed their kissing with rigour, using his mouth and whimpers to finally drive Sam over the edge. He kept pumping his hips until he was spent.

Vision whiting out, the room disappeared for a moment as Sam pulled out of Max and rolled onto the bed beside him. Opening his eyes again, Sam fumbled the condom off of himself, tied it off and got up to put it in the trash. Coming back to the bed, Max watched him like he could maybe go for round two very soon.

Max’s eyes were hooded, filled with desire, and Sam smirked and climbed into bed with him, pulling the comforter over them both. Max curled up against Sam like he was made for him. A sense of contentment settled over Sam like it hadn’t done in a long while. Holding Max, Sam nuzzled at his closely cropped hair as Max stroked his fingers over Sam’s sides.

“You taste good,” Sam murmured against Max’s head. He couldn’t tell if Max blushed at that, but he got the feeling he did.

“Mmm,” Max replied.

It didn’t take much for the two of them to drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

In Sam’s dreams that night, his name was Anton and Max was called Karl, and it seemed like the most natural thing as their dream forms writhed together.

***

Locking the Impala’s trunk, Dean hauled the duffle from the car and headed for the castle’s front steps. The castle’s parking lot was almost empty, suggesting most guests had checked out or gone off on day trips. And that was fine by him. Pulling his shirt collar up a little, Dean tried to focus on the task at hand and not the hickies that Donna had left on his collarbone the night before.

He started to walk up the steps that led into the castle reception, and then heard a sickening wet cracking thud from behind. Oh crap, Dean thought as he slowly turned around and walked back down to the bottom of the steps. On the gravel before the castle steps was the bloodied and mushy remains of Mike. At least Dean assumed it was Mike, he only had the guy’s hair to go on and the scream from Olive who had just come outside at the sound of the noise.

Glad he checked in under an alias, Dean said four words that he never liked to say: “I’ll call the police.”

Olive howled in response, sobs wracking her body so Dean went inside to the reception desk, got an outside line and dialed 911. At least, the place was fitted with security cameras: no one would have to explain where they were before the unfortunate event.

The operator sounded shocked when Dean got through to them, possibly she knew the hotel - a castle in the middle of Missouri was kinda out of place after all. Once the cops were on their way, Dean called Donna and Sam, and everyone waited together for the cops until they finally showed.

It took an hour for the whole thing to be declared a suicide after the security tapes were viewed. Donna managed to snag a look at the video, citing professional curiosity. The news she had for the guys wasn’t what they expected to hear while they gathered for coffees at the espresso machine in the feasting hall. Turned out Max could make a mean latte, not that Dean would admit this. All the other guests had checked out.

“Right, so the footage, ya?” Donna said. “He’s clear, but here and there, it fuzzes out. And there’s this glowing orb beside him for much of it.”

“Sounds like a ghost,” Max pointed out as he finished making a mocha for Sam. Olive was with her father who had driven right over after Sam calledr. When it came to staff, the hotel ran pretty thin.

“This ghost’s been active for a while…” Dean speculated. “I bet the draw you won,” Dean pointed at Donna with his latte, “was some sorta attempt to drum up interest in the place. ‘Course most of the staff seems to have abandoned ship.”

“Probably felt the presence of the ghost,” Sam concluded.

“Yahtzee,” said Dean. He took a sip of his latte, liking the way Max had managed to not burn the grounds so he didn’t need to add any sugar to the beverage.

Max finished making a black coffee for himself and sat down in a wooden chair that had been left beside the espresso machine. “Okay, so, when Sam and I were doing research last night--”

Donna scoffed, almost breaking out into giggles. “Yeah… research--”

“We researched!” Sam pointed out indignantly.

“You researched…” Dean prompted, not wanting to discuss the sounds he thought he might have overheard from down the hall.

“Right, so I found this young aristocrat named Anton who “disappeared” from the castle back in the 1690s. No one ever found him. His uncle claimed he’d run away to France, but there’s no sign he ever did.”

“How’d a body in a castle in Germany, that’s been taken apart stone by stone, end up all the way here in the US?” Dean asked incredulously.

Sam rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes looking away for a moment and then he snapped them back to Dean. “Wait, where was Mike before he walked up to that turret?”

A quick look over the original security footage ten minutes later showed Mike lugging furniture around in what appeared to be a cellar. Dean retrieved the duffel from his room and Donna grabbed the EMF reader from it. Armed with rock salt-loaded shotguns and a couple of fire pokers, some salt, gas and matches, the four of them made their way down into the low level.

***

Donna would have been lying if she said she was happy with how her vacation was going. It wasn’t like she hated what had happened. She was still with Dean and they had had a magical night together, but the point was not to be hunting. Equally it would have been pointless to have called in other hunters to take care of this job.

Holding the EMF out in front of her, the device got louder and louder, and she prayed that things would be over quickly enough. Maybe they could find a place with an indoor pool and still have some sorta vacation for the remainder of the week--that was what Donna hoped.

The wail of the EMF reached a crescendo and Donna stopped walking. There was nothing where she was standing except her and some massive floor stones. “Now what?” she asked, shutting the EMF off.

Sam and Max crouched down beside her and brushed their hands over the flat stones.

“There’s something different about these,” stated Max as he stood up again. “They’re bigger than the rest for a start.”

Dean knelt down beside Sam, knees creaking a little, and ran his hands over the stone slabs. “If there had been any bones here, at this site, when they rebuilt the castle here…”

“They’d have been dug up already,” Sam finished for Dean. In that way the brothers often did for each other. Donna was a little unsure what they were both getting at.

Max knelt down and ran his hands over the stones, suddenly he closed his eyes and his voice took on a slightly deeper note. “Anton and Karl. It’s them.”

He snapped his eyes open and Donna had to admit that the already cool cellar felt like it had dropped further in temperature. Dean wordlessly got everyone out of the cellar, and proceeded to drag everyone else out of the castle entirely.

Sam was checking up on Max as Donna stood beside Dean. She looked at his cell as he searched for equipment rental places.

“Whatcha looking for?” Donna asked.

“Breaker hire, like jackhammers,” Dean murmured. “Okay! There’s a place about one hour’s drive from here. We’ll rent a pickup from them too. Ain’t no way I’m bringing back one of these things in Baby.”

Donna watched as Dean put in a booking request for a hydraulic jackhammer that was for use on stone, and a pickup. It took a few minutes and then he was looking at the three of them expectantly.

“Okay, Sam and I are gonna go get the jackhammer. Donna, Max--I need you two to keep out anyone who might wanna head into the castle while we’re gone.” Dean was flicking through the credit cards he had in a box in the Impala’s glove compartment.

“We sure everyone’s gone?” Max piped up, arms crossed, looking like he didn’t really want to stay put.

“There’s no more staff, everyone who signed in has checked out, I’m pretty sure,” replied Dean.

“We could grab some snacks and drinks before they go?” Donna suggested. It would be three hours before they returned.

Max sighed, but agreed. Shotguns on hand, they raided the castle’s kitchen before Dean and Sam left. All was quiet as Donna and Max sat in her car and played poker, shared hunting stories and talked about the Winchester in their life.

***

Unsure when he’d dozed off, Max snapped awake as he heard the familiar purr of the Impala’s engine come close. The pickup wasn’t far behind with Sam at its wheel of course, because even Max had noticed that Dean didn’t let Sam drive his car unless absolutely necessary.

It took several trips for the four of them to move the massive jackhammer and a generator into the cellar, along with their other ghost hunting kit they’d been afraid to leave there, less the ghosts were to wreck it. There was no mistaking that Max felt a hell of a lot better having Sam beside him again; not that he’d been scared, but they’d only just been together for the first time and maybe Max wasn’t sure it was real. Before the hammer started up, Sam drew him into a kiss.

The kiss was meant to reassure Max that everything was going to fine, and it did manage that a little, but holding onto a shotgun and a fire poker made Max feel even better.

Everyone wore ear protectors and goggles as Dean used the jackhammer to break through the two odd floor stones. Donna, Sam and Max formed a protective triangle around him as he worked.

Suddenly the room felt cold and distant. Max felt like he was floating and then he realized he wasn’t in control of his own body as he stepped over to Sam--no, Anton.

The hammer stopped, but Karl was only distantly aware of this as he approached his lover. “I am so sorry, Anton,” he pleaded, in German, taking Anton’s face into his hands.

He was so beautiful with his hazel eyes and tawny hair. Karl never understood what he had done to deserve Anton’s favor.

Anton leaned in to the contact and wrapped his arms around Karl. “Sssh, I could never blame you, my, sweet, sweet Karl.” It was like a blessing from heaven as Anton covered Karl’s mouth with his own.

A distant thumping started up again, but Karl paid it no mind as he kissed his beautiful Anton. It had been so long since they had kissed, but he wasn’t entirely sure what he was meant to be sorry about. Their bodies melted together and Karl felt a peace he had not felt in several lifetimes.

Breaking for air, Karl looked up into Anton’s beautiful face and smiled. He had missed this. Missed them being together.

“NOW!” shouted a man’s voice.

Karl whipped his head round towards the sound, but suddenly his vision was a blur of ash and flames. He went to scream, but he had no voice.

***

Waking up on the hard gray stones of the castle cellar, Sam stared up into Dean’s concerned face and frowned. “Dean?”

“How’s your head?” Dean held up several fingers. “How many fingers?”

“Three.”

“Good enough.” Dean offered Sam a hand and helped him sit up. Back and head twinging as he twisted, Sam looked around and saw Max being taken care of by Donna.

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“Uh, some German ghost possessed you. Anton, I think.”

Sam rolled the name around in his head and then remembered the aristocrat that Max had found. “What about Max?”

“Karl, from what I could tell. Your German was pretty fast. Wasn’t sure if I caught the names right.”

Senses finally coming to, Sam smelled the familiar stench of smoke and charring bones. Then water splashed over his boots as it was dumped into the small crater that had been created in the middle of the cellar.

“It’s an enclosed space, can’t leave it burning now that the job’s done,” Donna pointed out, as she dusted her hands off.

A few hours later, they’d checked out of the Castle Rhine, taken the rental equipment back, and were on the road to a three-star place that Donna had picked out. Donna was driving in front of the Impala, her blue Nissan looking nothing like the black sleek lines of Dean’s baby.

Max was sat beside Sam on the backseat, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. He hadn’t realized he’d been doing it, but Sam gradually relaxed his shoulders, body starting to lose its tension. It had been yet another violation of his person, and Sam was on edge, part of him used to something he shouldn’t be, while another part of him was angry and hurt that it had happened once again. It was going to take more than a stay in some three-star hotel for him to feel better.

“It’s okay,” Max whispered into Sam’s ear as he continued to run his fingers through Sam’s hair. “I know it was hard, losing control. But you’re gonna be okay.” He nuzzled at Sam’s cheek. “You’re so strong, Sam Winchester. Remember that for me.” Before Sam could return Max’s words, he was drawn into a light kiss that made his toes curl and his stomach flutter.

Sam would do his best to remember. He really would.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this. Kudos and comments are appreciated.
> 
> You can find me kicking about on Tumblr at [dreamsfromthebunker](https://dreamsfromthebunker.tumblr.com/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for 'Stone by Stone'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11178417) by [stormbrite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormbrite/pseuds/stormbrite)




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